


Three Years On

by poeticgrace



Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017), Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF, Call Me By Your Name - All Media Types
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-17
Updated: 2020-02-17
Packaged: 2021-02-28 00:09:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,260
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22774681
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/poeticgrace/pseuds/poeticgrace
Summary: "I have to tell you goodbye..."Three years after the summer of 1983, Oliver searches for a way to stop Elio from saying goodbye all over again.
Relationships: Oliver/Elio Perlman
Comments: 1
Kudos: 82





	Three Years On

“I have to tell you goodbye…”

Elio stared at the man he had known in one way or another for the past three years of his life. There had been a time when Oliver had meant everything to him, but those days were long gone. 

He had lived a lot of life in the three years since the summer he was seventeen. He had fallen in and out of love with a pretty redhead in his French immersive program and then a lanky brunette who busked in the metro station near the Conservatory. He had been to New York, Lisbon, Jerusalem, Sydney, Bangkok, Rio, San Francisco and Cape Town. He had graduated from high school, completed the first two years of his program at the Conservatorio Santa Cecilia, and was now among the youngest members being considered for full acceptance into the Accademia. 

Everything was going his way when he had run into Oliver a month ago.

It was amazing how quickly he had fallen into old habits. Oliver had come along at a time in his adolescence when he was unsure, full of wonder and wanting to discover what his confused sexuality meant in the ever-changing world of the mid-80s. Elio had lost himself completely in their short romance, the pain enduring long after the blonde Adonis had returned to New York to marry his college sweetheart. Eventually, the summer before he started at the Conservatory, Elio had a long talk with his therapist and then his parents, promising to put Oliver behind him.

Elio had come through on his promise. Sofia and Giuseppe had each done their part in helping him glue the pieces of his very broken heart back together. But then one day while he had been waiting for an espresso at his favorite little coffee cart near the Conservatory, he’d seen his tall American blonde and knew that every ounce of progress he’d made over the past three years meant absolutely nothing.

And now, they were back here again, Oliver’s arms wrapped around Elio’s lithe waist as he pressed him against the wall of some random building in an alley a few blocks from the school, and Elio knew that he was on the verge of drowning.

“I have to tell you goodbye,” Elio repeated. “You have to let me say goodbye.” He couldn’t bring himself to look up at Oliver, afraid what he would find in his blue eyes. “Because if I don’t and if I let myself believe that this is real, that you mean what you’re saying and that this could be forever, I might not be able to back from it.”

Oliver knew he had broken Elio. His parents had told him as much when he had called just after the New Year in 1984. His mother had very politely asked that Oliver not contact Elio directly anymore. It was just too hard on him, she had told him, and he had to respect the simple request of the kind but protective mother. Oliver had spent the next two years researching his next book, moving back to Italy, teaching English at the university and most importantly, not getting married.

“I won’t leave,” he promised, but he knew that it was in vain. The only way to make Elio believe was to show him, but he had to have the gift of time to prove himself. He was afraid that Elio wasn’t willing to give it to him this time. Oliver knew he deserved that; he’d had everything when he had Elio’s heart and then thrown it away. It wasn’t as easy as most people seemed to think, but it had felt necessary at the time. He was doing what had always been expected of him, and he couldn’t hold Elio back by forcing him to be a secret. His boy had been proud to love him, and even then, Oliver had known that Elio deserved to have the same in return. “Please, just…”

Elio leaned forward on his toes and pressed his lips to Oliver impulsively. “Please what, Oliver? Please just give you more time? Please just believe you this time? Please what? You have to say the words this time. I won’t just let you speak in your stupid non-sequiturs.”

Oliver looked down at Elio then, quietly but confidently. “I know that we don’t have the gift of endless time. I know that you need to know for sure before you risk your heart with me again,” he said softly. “But Elio, my love, we both know that you already have. You did it all over again the moment your eyes met mine at that coffee cart, your smile hidden behind that ugly scarf Mafalada knitted you. Just as I did when I waved to you from across the street, my heart alive for the first time since I said goodbye to you in a train station three years ago.”

Elio started to reply, but Oliver pressed his index finger to his lips. “I know that you have no reason to believe my words but they’re all I have. These stupid words that can barely skim the surface of how much I care for you. Of how much I love you, Elio, because I do — so, so much. If I could do it all over again, I’d like to tell you that I wouldn’t break your heart, but the truth is that I wouldn’t change a thing. How could I when it brought us here? It’s only now that I know you are strong enough to stand up for yourself to me and that I’m strong enough to fight back when you try to walk away.”

“Your stupid words. Your stupid, beautiful words,” Elio murmured. His voice was devoid of any real tone, but Oliver could read how he was feeling in those ever-expressive green eyes of his. “They’re all I need, Oliver, all I have ever wanted. I’ve just needed to know that you meant it when you said you would stay.”

“I mean it, Elio, I mean it more than anything I’ve ever written or said or felt.”

Elio took a deep breath and looked down at his scuffed booths. “Okay.”

“Okay?”

“Okay.”

Oliver pushed back the curls from Elio’s forehead before swooping down to capture his lips in a deep kiss. They remained in the moment for several minutes, the outside world seemingly ceasing to exist as long as the two of them shared the same breath. And then Elio asked the only question he had left:

“How did you know that I would be there?”

Oliver knew that he could lie. He could pretend that it was as a random coincidence. He could act like fate had reunited them. But instead, he opted for he truth. “Your mother told me you were here three months ago. She said that you were finally ready for me to find you again,” he explained. “I waited two more weeks to make sure that she was certain, and when she confirmed that she was, I came here every morning with the hope that you would eventually turn up. I visited every cafe, every coffee cart, every patisserie.”

“You looked for me?”

Oliver smiled. “I never had to look for you, my love, you were everywhere.”

And with that, Elio believed with everything that he had that things would work out. So instead of worrying about it for a moment more, he threaded his fingers through Oliver’s, leading him out of the alley and into the warm Italian sun.

_La fine._


End file.
